“Je est un autre.”
Arthur Rimbaud
you was
circled
in red ink
like a noose
with words
trailing along
the margin
of your poem
asking
who is you
the teacher
wanted to know
you wanted
to say I
am you
but you
did not
because you
knew
the you
was the same
as the one
who berates
you for all
you do
who stares
blankly
back at you
from the mirror
as you shave
with a razor
at your throat
and you knew
to step out
of your self
reflection
and speak
as one
to claim
the other
would cross
a red line
and your voice
would wash
the world
in your blood
(November 19, 2014)
subtext 